


At the Speed of Light, Going Nowhere Fast

by Cryptographic_Delurk



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Anime), Pokemon Mystery Dungeon
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, And then it gets patently less serious, Bromance, Buddy Cop Bromance, Explorers of Time/Darkness/Sky, Friendship, Gen, Mild Gore, Squirtle Squad, Squirtle and Ivysaur have personalities heavily influenced by the anime, angsty beginnings, basically steals the setting and ignores the plot, comedy(?), no time gears
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-11 00:48:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5607406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cryptographic_Delurk/pseuds/Cryptographic_Delurk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Squirtle is a boisterous troublemaker. Ivysaur is a temperamental loner.</p><p>After losing his brothers in a confrontation with deadly electric Pokémon, Squirtle forces his way onto what becomes the worst best Exploration Team in history.</p><p>Basically buddy cop silliness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At the Speed of Light, Going Nowhere Fast

Squirtle is already part of an Exploration Team. It’s called the Squirtle Squad, even though their team leader, his elder brother, is a Wartortle now. When they had signed up, his brother hadn’t possessed the foresight to realise that their team name would be completely dated in a year or two.

None of his brothers were very much for foresight, Squirtle thinks bitterly. (Although if he were honest with himself, he would admit he did more than his fair share of running into trouble without a plan.)

None of them have any foresight, so that’s how they end up where they are – surrounded by aggressive electric Pokémon, the salty marsh water crackling with electricity.

Squirtle’s least favourite brother saves him. He grabs Squirtle by his shell and hurls him over to dry land. The Electrike in front of them watches as Squirtle arcs over through the sky, but his brother uses the last of his strength to take the Electrike down, and then nobody alive has seen where Squirtle disappeared to.

It does nothing to improve Squirtle’s opinion of his least favourite brother, because now he _owes_ the bastard and there’s no way for Squirtle to pay him back. _He probably did this on purpose_ , Squirtle cries to himself. _The spiteful jerk_ knew _it was a surefire way to make Squirtle feel shitty for the rest of his life._

But even his least favourite brother he likes better than himself, because Squirtle is afraid, and he can still see the crackling of electricity from the marsh, so he digs himself a hole under the dirt, and buries himself there instead of going back to try and save his brothers. It’s probably too late and, after the time he spends agonising over the decision, it’s definitely too late. But that doesn’t make him hate himself any less for it.

His tail is sticking over above the surface, but the rest of him is safe, under the protective layer of earth that will shield him from the electric attacks. In any case, the electric Pokémon don’t find him. A Diglett finds him, but it doesn’t have any kind words. It tries to attack him, and Squirtle can’t see anything underground, but he flails frantically. He can’t let the Diglett go. If it’s in cahoots with the electric Pokémon, it might report Squirtle’s location back to them. So Squirtle scratches and bites at the dark, until he can taste blood in his mouth and the Diglett isn’t struggling to poke his eyes out anymore. And then Squirtle’s alone.

Squirtle doesn’t know how long he’s in there, but it must be days, because he’s so hungry, and even more thirsty. It starts to smell really bad, and Squirtle’s not sure if it’s from him or the rotting Diglett, but he doesn’t care.

Squirtle doesn’t have the energy or the will to get up and escape. He stays buried in the hole he’s dug, drifting into and out of unconsciousness.

In those moments of half-wakefulness, he’s convinced that the hole he’s dug is his own grave.

That ends up not being true, though. Somebody back at the Explorer’s Guild takes pity on him. It turns out to be Chatot, which is a little surprising given her personality. But he and his brothers didn’t tell anybody where they were going, and Squirtle supposes she’s the only Pokémon who’s enough of a busybody to know anyhow.

Squirtle doesn’t find that out until later, though. All he knows is that somebody’s tugging on his tail and pulling him out of the ground. The air is cold, whooshing violently around him, but it’s still not enough to keep him awake. He shivers and rubs his stomach against whatever he’s lying on.

All Squirtle knows is that something smells really, _really_ good.

It’s not heady and foul like the smell he’s gotten used to from his time in the hole. It’s crisp and clean and sweet. It smells _so_ sweet. It smells _so_ good. _This must be what heaven smells like_ , he thinks to himself. So _sweet_. And _fragrant_. If he could just…

“H-hey! Cut it out! Those are my petals you’re gnawing on!”

The voice is not nearly so sweet as the taste of the petal that’s bursting over his tongue. But Squirtle’s so happy he doesn’t care. Even when a vine whips around to whack him in the face. The blow is light, but Squirtle’s so weak right now, that it’s enough to knock him out cold anyway.

He doesn’t care. He’s just so happy.

==

When he finally comes to, Chimecho is standing over him.

“Are you awake? Can you hear me?” she asks pleasantly. “I need you to tilt your head up, so you can drink this. Okay?”

Squirtle blinks wearily. He tries to speak, but his mouth is dry, so he settles for following Chimecho’s instructions.

She levitates a glass in front of him, and pours it down his throat in small waves. It’s berry purée, but it’s so watered down Squirtle can hardly taste it.

When he’s done, Chimecho takes the glass away and sets it down to the ground beside them.

Squirtle suddenly recognises where he is. He’s lying in one of the hay beds in the infirmary, back at Wigglytuff’s Guild. Which makes sense, since Chimecho’s there.

“You seem lucid enough for an explanation this time,” Chimecho says. “I’m going to call the others, okay?”

Squirtle blinks in confusion, and Chimecho doesn’t wait before shaking side to side. Her bell rings loudly. “Calling _Chatot_ & _Doc_ to the infirmary!” she chimes loudly. “Calling _Chatot & the Doctor _to the infirmary!”

Squirtle cringes at the sound. It’s so loud. If he didn’t have a headache before, he certainly has one now.

This problem is made infinitely worse when Chatot arrives.

 _Squawk! Squawk!_ she cries, as she hops around the infirmary, headless of Chimecho’s quiet shushing. “After ignoring Guild protocol-! I even had to persuade the Guildmaster-! Do you _realise_ the expenses that have gone into your rescue and subsequent recovery?! _Squawk! Squawk!_ ”

The doctor is a Chansey, with a red and white armband and an old stethoscope tucked in her pouch. She ignores Chatot’s cries pointedly, as she checks Squirtle’s heartbeat and abdominal sounds, before pressing diagnostically at the muscles around his jaw and in his limbs. Squirtle doesn’t recognise her, so he thinks she was probably called in from outside the guild.

Chimecho chimes softly in the corner, trying to quiet Chatot’s panicked yells.

Squirtle wants to hide in his shell. It’s embarrassing enough being in such bad straits, without being fussed over by three different women. Even if it is in an entirely professional manner.

“You’ve several minor bone fractures in your left leg and in your tail,” the doctor explains, crisply. “Just go easy on them for the next couple weeks and you should heal naturally. And you seem to be anaemic, so you’ll be taking these iron supplements for the next week or so,” she says, holding up a small pink pill-bottle, “which should help your circulation and muscle atrophy.”

“One hundred thousand Pokédollars!” Chatot says, once the doctor leaves. “One hundred thousand Pokédollars for your rescue! And treatment! And medicine! Don’t you dare think about sneaking out of here before you pay the guild back in full! I’ll hunt you down to the ends of the earth!”

Squirtle sighs and doesn’t doubt it. Chatot is famous for sleeping on top of the ladder at the guild’s entrance, to prevent runaway recruits.

“Don’t worry,” Chimecho explains, smiling. “Chatot was really worried about you. She took the money to pay for everything out of her own salary. She worked overtime investigating your disappearance, and commissioned the rescue mission herself!”

Chatot squawks indignantly. “Won’t rest until every cent is repaid! _Squawk!_ ”

Squirtle gurgles, as water pools in his throat without realising it. He swallows, before forcing himself to speak.

“My brothers-?” he asks.

Chatot’s cries immediately stop. She hops back and forth, clearly unsure of what to say.

Chimecho looks to him sadly.

Squirtle tries to turn his head away, but it’s hard to move, so he closes his eyes instead.

“I’m very sorry,” Chatot says, robotically. Chatot’s no good at being comforting. Somehow that’s nice to know. She might care, but at least it doesn’t stop her from being completely awful at it.

His eyes are still closed.

“Little Squirtle…” Chimecho prompts. She waits for a moment, and when he doesn’t respond, “Maybe we should give him some time-”

“Oh! Quit being avoidant!” Chatot snaps. Squirtle can hear her voice moving closer. “Open your eyes and look over here,” she commands.

Squirtle can hear her waving her wings wildly, and eventually he looks.

She’s holding up several pairs of broken sunglasses – trademark of the Squirtle Squad – and she sets them next to him on the hay bed.

Squirtle hears himself sniffle.

Chatot glares at him.

“You should be grateful!” she commands absurdly. “We even managed to recover this pair , still in good condition!” She pulls a final pair of dark glasses out from behind her back. That’s three broken pairs, including the one with the pointed lenses that belonged to their leader – his eldest brother – and one pair intact. One pair for each of his brothers, if he decides it’s his own pair that was lost for good.

“Hold onto these,” Chatot says. “Hold onto these, and your memories, and remember to _BE CAREFUL_!! _Squawk!_ ”

Squirtle forces himself to pull his head into his shell before he can start crying in earnest, but the water still leaks out of the pores of his skin and pours onto the hay bed. Now somebody’s going to have to clean that up, and he’s even more ashamed!

“Ew, gross!” Chatot squawks, and hurries away in a flurry of feathers.

“Poor dear,” Chimecho says. “I’ll take care of that. Don’t you worry.”

“Who found me?” Squirtle croaks out, from inside his shell. “Who brought these back with them?” he asks, referring to the Squirtle Squad glasses.

He can barely hear as Chatot starts grumbling about no-good rule breakers.

“Oh, that was Ivysaur,” Chimecho says easily. “You might know him. ...Or maybe not. He’s not very friendly,” she chimes. “Always taking jobs all by himself…”

==

Squirtle does know Ivysaur. If only by reputation.

Basically he’s known for being snooty and stand-offish and too good for everyone. He often spends nights outside the guild, over by Sharpedo Bluff, to Chatot’s consternation. He doesn’t say anything during meals. And he often goes exploring all by himself, even though every Exploration Team is supposed to have at least two members.

“He’s always swiping outlaws right out from under us,” says Howly, the premier member of Team Poochy.

They’ve come to visit Squirtle in the infirmary with a basket of get-well poffins.

“It seems he prefers hunting outlaws too,” Howly gripes. “And he’s always getting the ones we want – with low ranks but high rewards!”

“That ain’t true,” says Sparky, one of the Poochyenas under him. “He takes rescue missions too, sometimes.”

“Yeah, sometimes…” Howly grumbles. He then looks at Squirtle, embarrassed of speaking so heatedly in front of a patient. “N- not that I meant to speak poorly of your saviour.”

Squirtle shrugs. He doesn’t really know any of them well enough to be bothered. Honestly, he’s still in shock at the number of visitors he’s had over the last couple of days. He had mainly kept to himself and his brothers, since he moved out here to Treasure Town – so he’s surprised at the public support he’s received from other guild members and private Exploration Teams.

It’s nice to know there are still people here who want him around. He doesn’t want to have to return home without his brothers and his tail between his legs.

He gets lots of visitors, in addition to Chimecho and Chatot (who doesn’t let a day pass without coming in to scold him for being too ill to work, and then scolding him for being too careless, when he suggests being put back on exploration duty again). But there’s one Pokémon Squirtle is dying to meet.

So that’s why he sneaks out from under Chimecho’s watch, one night, to find Ivysaur’s room.

Except for the Guildmaster’s room, none of them have doors, so Squirtle runs down the twisting earthen tunnels and peeks in until he’s sure he’s found the right one.

Ivysaur’s room is close to the end of the hall, and it’s very dark, even though he’s lucky enough to have a window. There’s a single large hay bed in the centre of the room, where Ivysaur is sleeping on his stomach, and Squirtle sneaks up on tiptoe and shakes Ivysaur’s shoulder.

And, when that doesn’t work, he throws jet of water right at Ivysaur’s face.

Ivysaur’s eyes open, a bright magenta, like the flower on his back.

He blinks wearily at where Squirtle is holding his shoulder.

And then Ivysaur promptly flips out.

“Ahhhhh!” Ivysaur’s vines whip out, and the air’s knocked right out of Squirtle’s chest as he’s pushed back and pinned down against the ground.

“Ha ha, somebody’s a deep sleeper,” Squirtle says, between coughing and gasping for air.

“Shut up!” Ivysaur says, blinking rapidly in the darkness, still trying to regain his bearings.

He moves to the side, so he’s not blocking the moonlight from the window. His vines relax as he identifies Squirtle.

“What are you doing here?” Ivysaur asks suspiciously, as Squirtle pulls himself to his feet. “You’re not going to try to eat my flower again?”

Squirtle can’t help but burst out laughing, which earns an irate glare from Ivysaur.

“Who would want to eat your flower?” Squirtle asks. “Is that a come on?”

“You literally tried to eat my flower!” Ivysaur bristles angrily, shaking his back to draw attention to the flower bud on his back. “I saved you and you tried to eat it,” he accuses. “Look! You can still see the bite marks on the petal in the front!”

Ivysaur is blushing badly, and Squirtle has to admit that there is something weirdly intimate about this conversation, even if Ivysaur is speaking in a purely literal sense.

Squirtle giggles. “Really. Nobody wants to see your ‘flower’, dude.”

Ivysaur grumbles to himself, going redder, which makes Squirtle laughs harder, until a vine whips up out of nowhere and whacks him on the back of his head.

“What are you doing here?” Ivysaur repeats, as Squirtle reaches up to rub his head.

“Right, right,” Squirtle says, and he puts on his most serious expression and sits on the ground. “I came to ask about Jolteon and his gang?”

“What? You mean _Terrible Jolteon_?” Ivysaur asks dumbly, referring to the name of the mark on the wanted poster.

Squirtle rolls his eyes. Who else would he be talking about, if not the leader of the electric type gang that killed his brothers.

“Nobody told you?” Ivysaur asks. “I took ‘em out.”

It’s said so candidly, that Squirtle gasps in surprise, and ends up choking on the water that rushed up his into his mouth.

“Y- you took him out?” Squirtle coughs. “What about the rest of them – the Electrike – too? You… killed them?”

Ivysaur huffs and looks insulted.

“No, I didn’t kill them!” Ivysaur says, like it should be obvious. “Magnezone has them. It was just _Terrible Jolteon_ and three Electrike when I made it to the Salt Marshes and restrained them. One of the Electrike was held in the gang under threat, and was let off. But the rest were all locked up,” Ivysaur supplies. “They’re in Officer Magnezone’s prison now.”

Squirtle feels his throat constrict. He bites his lip to stop himself from tearing up.

“Really?” he croaks.

Ivysaur’s face softens. “Really. They’re locked up for good,” he says. The leaves on his back sway gently.

Squirtle gulps.

“Thanks. Now I know where to find them.”

Squirtle gets up to leave.

“Whoa, _whoa_! What does that mean? What do you think you’re doing?!” Ivysaur cries. When Squirtle doesn’t respond, he wraps his vines around Squirtle and pulls him back into the centre of the room before he can leave.

“You’re not seriously planning on going after them, are you?” Ivysaur asks seriously.

Squirtle, caught in Ivysaur’s vines, wrinkles his brow and nods.

“That’s completely insane!” Ivysaur barks angrily. “What- you’re going to break into Magnezone’s prison – which is enough to get you on a wanted list in of itself – and to get ahold of _Terrible Jolteon_ , who’s going to spend his whole life there anyhow, and who could quite possibly _kill_ you, if you get involved?!”

“Well, uh…”

Squirtle looks at Ivysaur, who looks very mad and more awake than he has all night.

And then Squirtle looks away. He doesn’t know what to say. But his brothers would have known. They had always known what to say about honour and rebellious hearts and being _really_ cool.

“You realise I saved your life, right?!” Ivysaur says, shaking Squirtle in his vines. “That’s not an exaggeration even a little – if Chatot hadn’t put out a rescue request, and I hadn’t answered it... You owe us. We put ourselves on the line for you, so if you go and throw your life away like that… you really are a bad Pokémon.”

Ivysaur shakes his head in disgust.

Squirtle gulps. He’s bitter, because he doesn’t want to owe anyone, especially not for something he’s not even sure he wants anymore.

But, on the other hand, repaying Ivysaur seems less daunting that trying to avenge his brothers by killing an electric Pokémon that’s been interned indefinitely.

“I think you should go and get some sleep. Gods know it’s late enough-” Ivysaur sighs. “Things will probably seem clearer to you in the morning.”

He shuffles his vines and sets Squirtle gently down on the ground. Squirtle’s stuck by how precise and attentive the gesture is.

Ivysaur’s vines retreat, and he stretches and yawns, preparing to return to sleep.

Squirtle flexes his arms and makes a decision.

“Nah!” Squirtle says, his eyes shining. “Things are seeming pretty clear now, boss!”

“Boss?” Ivysaur asks. His forehead wrinkles as he beds down in the hay.

“Yeah, boss!” Squirtle chirps happily.

Ivysaur regards him suspiciously.

“Don’t call me boss,” he says curtly.

Squirtle laughs. “Nah, ya see – I owe you my life. So, until I can return the favour, it’s my sworn duty to work under you and help out your Exploration Team!”

Ivysaur groans and hides his eyes under his front legs.

“No. _No._ That’s unnecessary,” he says. “I don’t work well with others. Please just- go keep living your life somewhere else.” He waves Squirtle off towards the exit.

“This is going to be so great!” Squirtle says, jumping back and forth excitedly. “You’re a really strong Pokémon, aren’t you boss? And we’ll go adventuring together! And you’ll teach me how to be strong like you, right boss?”

Ivysaur growls angrily and stands.

“So now this is all about _you_ getting stronger?!” he says. He advances menacingly, forcing Squirtle to retreat with his shell to the wall. “What don’t you _get_?! I _don’t_ need you to return any favours. I explore by _myself_. And I _don’t_ work with other Pokémon!”

Squirtle’s backed into a corner, but he isn’t afraid. Ivysaur may be stronger than him, and a grass type, but Squirtle’s got him all figured out. He’s just a giant Teddiursa on the inside.

“But it’s against guild rules to explore without a partner,” Squirtle says.

Ivysaur frowns deeply.

“And _smiles go for miles_ ,” Squirtle adds, pointing at his own grin in demonstration.

“Get out! _Get out of my room!_ ” Ivysaur cries. He captures Squirtle in his vines again, lifts him up, and runs to hurl him out back into the hallway.

Squirtle crash lands right on top of a fuzzy Pokémon, for better or for worse.

“Oof!” Bidoof cries. “That hurt something fierce.” He extricates himself from the tangle and sniffs tentatively at Squirtle’s face and behind. “Gosh! Is that you, Squirtle? …Well, I just got up to use the bathroom, and didn’t expect to run, er… crash into any Pokémon out here. Weren’t you supposed to be in the infirmary? Are you okay?”

Squirtle’s stuck upside down, with the back of his shell against the ground. He pulls into his shell, and rocks back and forth until he’s gotten enough momentum going to right himself.

“Nah, I’m fine,” Squirtle says dismissively, as he pushes himself up and out of his shell, facing the right direction this time. “Sorry ‘bout that, Bidoof.”

“Oh gosh!” Bidoof says, looking shaken. “As long as you’re sure, Squirtle.”

Squirtle grins widely. He’s definitely sure. This is the most normal he’s felt since he returned from the Salt Marshes.

==

Chimecho gives him a stern lecture for sneaking out, and insists he stay an extra few days in the infirmary after tumbling right into poor Bidoof.

This gives Ivysaur just enough time to be lulled into a false sense of security, before Squirtle reappears at the front entrance to the guild.

“Hey boss!” Squirtle calls, as he runs up behind Ivysaur.

Ivysaur groans to himself and keeps walking. He’s heading due south of the guild, to where the road splits. He doesn’t turn to address Squirtle.

“Guess what?” Squirtle says brightly. “Chimecho and Chatot cleared me to start working again. Said I’m fully healed, so long as I keep taking my vitamin gummies.”

“Hmm… That so?” Ivysaur grumbles.

“Yup!” Squirtle says. “So where are we goin’ today, boss?”

Ivysaur doesn’t answer for a long time. They keep walking, until they’re at the fork in the road.

“Reviver Seed,” Ivysaur says. “I need a Reviver Seed. Can you get one for me?”

Squirtle blinks. “I don’t know how you expect me to pay for it,” he admits. All he’s got clanging around in his shell are his vitamins, and a mint green bandana. His brothers' sunglasses, he left at the guild for safekeeping.

“If you ask for my account at Kangaskhan Storage, there should be one in there. Bring it to me, and we can get going after that.”

“Sure thing, boss!” Squirtle says. He salutes, before running of into Treasure Town. His brothers often made him run errands like this, so he’s used to this kind of thing.

But when he returns to the fork in the road, with the Reviver Seed tucked into his shell, Ivysaur is nowhere to be found. He spends an hour searching around for Ivysaur, before Squirtle finally admits to himself that he got duped.

Squirtle ends up spending the day sitting at the beach and watching the Krabby blow bubbles.

So Ivysaur is a little sneaky. Fine.

Back home, Squirtle grew up with over sixty siblings. ( _Minus four now_ , he thinks sadly of the brothers who came with him to Treasure Town.) But even if sixty siblings weren’t worth much, it wasn’t possible to get through your childhood without learning a thing or two. Ivysaur might be a little sneaky, but Squirtle knows every trick in the book.

_Squirtle is the master of sneaky._

Squirtle returns to Kangaskhan Storage that evening, and withdraws every single item in Ivysaur’s account.

==

Despite Squirtle’s extreme sneakiness, Ivysaur manages to avoid him for another three days.

He doesn’t confront Squirtle about the missing items, or about how his evening meal was heavily spiced with pepper.

Squirtle sets up traps, and ambushes him before missions. But, every single time, Ivysaur manages to escape, or chase him off. And, eventually, Squirtle has to pull out the big guns.

Which really just means he has friends in high places.

 _Ring! Ring!_ Chimecho’s bell chimes, and Squirtle startles to attention, and cuts his conversation with Croagunk short to scurry up the ladder.

“I’m here! I’m here!” Squirtle assures, as he runs up to where Ivysaur and Chimecho are chatting in front of the notice boards.

“Ah, Little Squirtle,” Chimecho sings. “I’m glad you heard me.”

Ivysaur looks between Squirtle and Chimecho, and his eyes narrow. “You told me that was just a sneeze, that that chime didn’t mean anything,” he accuses, turning to Chimecho.

 _Traitor,_ his eyes say.

Squirtle snickers.

“Don’t worry,” Chimecho says. “Everyone can accomplish more when they work together. And, Chatot said you two should work together on this assignment, anyhow.” Chimecho pulls an assignment notice down from the bulletin, and levitates it in front of Squirtle.

Squirtle grabs it, before Ivysaur can, and reads the top of the wanted notice. It’s for a Drowzee that has apparently made a habit of exerting mind control over other Pokémon, and who’s now gone into hiding.

Ivysaur hesitates, before stepping forward and reading over Squirtle’s shoulder.

 _Check and mate_. Squirtle smiles. If it’s at Chatot’s request, there’s no way Ivysaur can refuse.

“I have no doubt Team Spaghetti can take care of this threat,” Chimecho says confidently.

There’s a beat, before Squirtle realises she’s talking about them.

He giggles. “You named your team _Team Spaghetti_?!” he manages to get out, before breaking into guffaws.

Ivysaur blushes deeply. “So what?! I like spaghetti, okay?!” he snaps defensively.

“Ah, nothing, nothing,” Squirtle wheezes. He tries to catch his breath, and wipes the tears out of his eyes.

Ivysaur’s face is a deep red. “If you don’t like it, you can go find another Exploration Team to force your way into!” he says furiously.

Squirtle snorts and raises an eyebrow. He doesn’t know if this means Ivysaur’s finally acknowledging his place on the team, but…

Ivysaur raises one eyebrow back at him, challengingly.

Chimecho smiles at them both.

“Fine. Fine. We’re Team Spaghetti.” Squirtle agrees, with one last snicker. “So – where to?”


End file.
